The Reawakening
by GloryJotter
Summary: After her 19th birthday passes completely unnoticed, Meg decides to return to the one person she believes ever really cared about her. Meg/Quagmire
1. Decision

**Out of all of the possible Family Guy pairings, Meg/Quagmire has always been my favorite. This story takes place beyond the seasons (as far as S12), and leans heavily on the events of S10E10, 'Quagmire and Meg'**

(Obligatory warning:) **Characters owned by Seth MacFarlane**

* * *

For an evening at the Griffin residence, it had been a fairly peaceful one. Peter and Lois had spent most of the afternoon in a quiet argument, as they usually did when Peter hadn't done something truly outrageous. Chris had sequestered himself in his room, and no one had heard a peep from Stewie or Brian since Lois had put them to bed a couple hours earlier. Meg sat on her bed, leaning her head on her windowsill, watching the neighborhood street. Her eye caught every slight movement on the sidewalk, the turning of cars down the road, and some small part of her heart still held out that someone, anyone, would come and visit for her birthday.

She really shouldn't have been surprised that her parents had completely forgotten it this year. Last year they had taken her to the Teen Choice Awards, but had hardly reacted when no one showed up at the surprise party later that evening. This year there had not even been a mention of the approaching birthday, and now it had come without a nod or word.

She pressed her phone to her thigh, hoping against hope that it would vibrate, at least with a "can't come" or a "seriously, loser? wtf," but so far it had remained still. She watched out the window as the sun dipped down behind Quahog, and remained motionless as the sky turned orange and night seeped in from the corners of the horizon. Only when the new stars began to bud did she retreat from the window and close it tight.

Sighing, she took a pen from the desk and reached up to her wall calendar, marking an X on the date, then reached under her mattress for her diary. The book was old, having been her diary for the better part of five years, and even though she hadn't been writing as much of late, she was beginning to run out of space. Just a few more pages and she would be at the cardboard backing. She touched the pen to the page, wondering what to write. Really, was there anything she could stay about this day that the diary had not already seen? "Dear Diary, my family ignored my birthday," "Dear Diary, my parents didn't speak to me today," "Dear Diary, I have no friends," it was all the same, really. So, instead of writing, she started thumbing back through the pages. This diary had seen quite a bit in its time, though, she would admit that. It was disjointed at times, melodramatic, but what else could be expected from a teen girl's diary? As she flipped through the pages, she reached a page that she had dog-eared exactly one year ago, the night of her surprise party.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _My parents took me to the Teen Choice Awards for my birthday, it's like they don't know me at all! Oh, wait, they DON'T know me at all. Mom said that she gave Chris money to pay off people at school to come to my party, and even then Dad was the only one who came. They had to pay off my own father to come to my birthday party. This family sucks!_

 _There is only one reason why this birthday wasn't a total bust, and that was from next door. I've always thought of him as just one of my dad's friends, but he's so different from him- I don't even know why they are friends. Glenn is so nice and funny, he actually reads and he isn't completely inconsiderate. He even texted me after my dad kicked him out (what an asshole) and we're going to start hanging out. Brian is worried about it, but I told him not to be. Glenn isn't going to hurt me or anything, and I am 18 now. If they aren't going to care about me when I'm alone, why should they care about me when I'm hanging out with someone? Especially someone my dad knows? They are so fucked up._

 _-Meg_

She chuckled to herself, closing the diary and shaking her head. She had known even then what kind of man Glenn Quagmire was, but she hadn't minded his attentions. So what if he was a womanizer? He was a nice guy, and it wasn't like she wanted to marry him or anything like that. What was the harm in a little fling? She furrowed her brow, growing frustrated at the memory of her parent's reactions. Peter she could almost understand, almost, but Lois? Even by her own admittance she had been a massive slut before settling down with Peter. She had no right to judge, or to stop Meg at the cabin.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. She waited in silence, and listened as her parents passed by her room.

"Hey, did Meg seem a little moody today?" Lois asked.

"Eh, she was probably on her period. Heh. Period." Peter laughed. Lois groaned and she heard their bedroom door close. Her mind was suddenly made up. She picked up her phone. She still had Quagmire's number, right?

* * *

Glenn Quagmire had just leaned back in his chair, book in hand, when his phone buzzed from across the room. Frowning, he stood up and went over to it. The only people who ever texted him were the guys or Ida- he never gave out his real phone number to his one-night-stands. There were two messages, one from an unknown number, and one from…Meg?

 **(555) 555-4891**

 _HAAY SVEN! SEXY BOI, WANT 2 HKUP 2NI8?_

 **P. Nipple Ring**

 _Hey, Mr. Quagmire. Are you home?_

Glenn sneered and deleted the first message, remembering that Joe had given a random girl his number after she mistook them for Norwegian tourists. It had been fun until he'd forgotten his accent halfway through the night, but by then she had obviously been too drunk to tell. He hoped that she wouldn't try the number again, then replied to Meg's text.

 **P. Nipple Ring**

 _Hey, Mr. Quagmire. Are you home?_

 **Me**

 _Yeah, Meg. What's up?_

 **P. Nipple Ring**

 _Would it be okay if I stopped by for a minute?_

 **Me**

 _Is your dad okay with it?_

 **P. Nipple Ring**

 _He's asleep_

Quagmire considered for a moment. "It's innocent, Quagmire." He told himself before typing out a quick reply and hitting send before he could stop himself. Thirty seconds later, there was a quiet knock on the door. She must have sent those messages while standing at her front door. He checked that his robe was tight around his waist, smoothed back his hair, and opened the door.

* * *

The smell was the same as she remembered, the smell of Old Spice, books, and sex. She stepped in gingerly, smiling at her neighbor and taking in her surroundings. He was in his robe, a white wife beater and blue boxers just visible underneath, his bare feet pressed into his plush rug. In the corner there was a book with a half-full glass of wine sitting on top of it. That made her strangely happy, to realize that she had interrupted him in reading, instead of a more salacious activity.

"What can I do for you, Meg?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Quagmire." Meg said, holding her arm and glancing around, "I just… well, it's my birthday and no one said anything."

"I'm sorry about that." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Did your parents do anything?"

"No."

"Well, can't say I'm surprised." He said, "Well, it is awful late-" he began, but seeing her face he paused and said, "So… do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure." She smiled. He smiled back, then went into his back room. He came back with a small handful of DVD's.

"Does it matter to you?" he asked, gesturing to the movies. She shook her head and watched as he crouched to turn on his television and insert the disc. After a pause, before the disc had loaded, she cleared her throat.

"Mr. Quagmire…" She said, "You remember last year, right?"

"Heh, heh. How could I forget?" He laughed uneasily, "Your mom almost skinned me alive in my own cabin."

"Yeah…" She said. Maybe he wouldn't want to, now. Maybe her parents had scared him enough that he wouldn't be interested anymore. Well… how would she know, though? "Well, I've been thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?" He asked, standing from the player, remote in hand.

"I think… well. I am 19 now, Mr. Quagmire." She said, blushing. He stared at her, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"What are you saying, Meg?"

"I don't know…" She mumbled, "Do you want to...do you want to fool around a little?"

"Are you serious?" He asked. She couldn't read his face.

"Well, yeah. I am." She said. Her face was so hot she thought it would melt her skin. She fiddled with the bottom of her blouse, refusing to look up at him.

"You gotta tell me if you are _really_ sure." He said, his voice stern, "I got into big trouble with your parents last year, and I'm not going to lie- I mean… I would...I… are you sure?"

She looked up at him, catching his gaze for several seconds, before smiling wide.

"Yes, Mr. Quagmire."

"...Giggity."


	2. Caught

Brian stumbled blearily into the kitchen, barely trusting his sore legs to carry him to the sink. Stewie had promised him that he'd finally perfected the time machine, but that hadn't stopped them from being dropped into the center of a WWII war zone- again. He was too old to keep indulging his friend like this, but he reminded himself that after a large glass of water and a good night's sleep, the evening's adventures wouldn't seem as bad.

He had just gotten the glass under the faucet when he heard the front door creak open. His ears pricked up and he growled, but he managed to get control of himself and he approached the kitchen entry, flipping on the light.

Meg was standing in the living room, her eyes wide in the sudden illumination. Brian's first inclination was to shrug it off, but then he realized what he was seeing. Meg was holding her hat and shoes in her hand, her hair was tussled and pressed back in a harried fashion. Her shirt was wrinkled and tucked halfway into her jeans, which themselves were unbuttoned and only half zipped.

"Meg? What the hell-"

"Brian? Oh, thank god it's just you."

"Meg, it's almost four o'clock in the morning. Where the hell were yo-" the breeze from the still-open front door caught Meg's scent and pushed it toward Brian, whose hackles raised immediately.

"Were you… were you with Quagmire?"

Meg blushed violently and clutched her things close to her chest. Brian gaped in horror at her.

"Are you serious? What did you- did you have sex with him?"

"It's not-" she began, but her voice caught in her throat. "You don't understand…"

"Meg, I can not believe you would have sex with Quagmire. Do you even know how old he is? Seriously? And after what happened last year?"

"Shut up, Brian." Meg said, suddenly angry. "So what? Huh? So what happened last year? It was a year ago, I'm 19 now, and Quagmire actually treats me nice. He treats me better than anyone in this family does."

"How can you even say that?" Brian demanded, "All he wants is a new place to stick his dick, and you are obviously all too willing to oblige."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" She asked, incredulous.

"I thought you were better than that." He said, furrowing his brow. They stared at each other for a moment before Meg straightened and brushed her hair back from her face.

"He's right about you," She said, "You are a hypocrite and a bore."

Brian was shocked into silence and could do nothing but watch as Meg ascended the stairs. He pressed his face to his paw, groaning in exasperation. It was too late to be dealing with this stuff. He glanced back at the water and tossed it back into the sink, then reached under the table for the bottle of Jack Daniels he kept taped there. As he took a swig, he wandered into the side room and stared out the window at Quagmire's house.

The living room light was on, as evidenced by the illumination the bay window cast over his front yard. His lips curled back into a growl. What he ought to do is march himself over there and kick the shit out of Quagmire. What right did that lascivious old man have to do what he did? What right did he have to… well… what had he done? Brian needed more information, he needed to know what really happened. He thought back to last year, Quagmire's brazenly transparent advances practiced right in front of him and Peter. Glenn was a predator, and she was his prey. Had the same thing happened? Had Quagmire come over after everyone had gone to bed, snuck Meg out of the house and had his way with her? Why couldn't the girl see that she was being used?

Quagmire's living room light turned off, startling Brian out of his train of thought. What he ought to do is tell Peter. No, actually, not Peter. Lois. Peter had known all along what was happening last year, but Lois was the one whose rage inspired them to rescue Meg. She would set the girl straight, and kick Quagmire's ass too. That would set him right. He'd have to move away after Lois was done with him.

What if it was _Meg's_ idea?

Brian and Quagmire had enough bad blood between them without Brian inciting fights between him and the Griffins. He hated Quagmire just as much as Glenn hated him, but was he willing to ruin the man's life like that? Especially if it had been Meg's idea.

 _"He treats me better than anyone in this family does."_

Brian looked down at the Jack Daniels bottle, now only half full. For someone who professed to care about Meg as much as Brian did, he had abandoned her birthday to go galavanting through time with Stewie. Come to think of it, Peter and Lois hadn't even mentioned Meg's coming birthday either. Really, had no one remembered? Was that the catalyst for this whole thing?

Brian drank through the rest of the bottle as fast as he could, keeping his mind as blank as possible, before going upstairs to Peter and Lois' room for the night. As he curled at the end of the bed, he made a promise to himself to get to the bottom of everything tomorrow morning.

* * *

Meg opened her eyes blearily, reaching out to silence her screaming alarm clock. She forgot that she had set it for this morning, so it was probably for the best that she hadn't stayed the whole night at Quagmire's. She made a mental note to thank him, smiling a little to herself as she pressed the button and sat up.

"I'm surprised you're getting up this early." A voice said from the end of the bed. Meg's eyes shot open. Brian was there, his arms crossed.

"Brian? Get the hell out of my room!"

"I can't do that, Meg." He said, his brows coming together and his mouth turning down in a frown, "Not until you tell me exactly what happened last night."

"God, Brian. Why the hell do you need to know?" She demanded, throwing back the covers and standing from the bed.

"Damn it." He said, "Don't you realize that there is a reason Peter and Lois wanted to protect you from him? Did you stop to think that Peter wanted to keep him away from you because he knows him better?"

"Why can't you just let me be happy, Brian? For once in my life, I am happy."

"I want you to be happy, but Glenn Quagmire is not going to be the one to do that." Brian said, a growl biting at the back of his throat, "He'll use you, like he uses so many other girls, and drop you flat when you get boring."

"Son of a bitch, it's not like I'm marrying him. It's just a casual fuck every now and then. Seriously, you need to back off."

Brian continued to glare at her as she gathered the clothes she had shed from the night before. As she lifted her jeans, an open condom wrapper fell out of her pocket. Brian growled, swallowed, and stood from the bed.

"Well," he said, voice dripping with disdain as he picked it up and handed it back to her, "I guess I should be grateful that you're using protection."

Meg's eyes narrowed. She tossed the wrapper into her trashcan, then pointed at the door, "Brian, get the fuck out of my room."

Brian was so blinded with fury that he almost immediately ran into Chris.

"Woah, what's up Brian?"

"Get out of my way, Chris."

"What's going on?"

"What's going on is that Quagmire came over here last night and-" Brian stopped himself, swallowed and closed his eyes.

"What… Mr. Quagmire? He didn't come over last night." Chris said. Brian relaxed his hands, which he didn't realize he had been holding in fists, and looked at Chris.

"What did you say?"

"Mr. Quagmire didn't come over last night, Brian. No one did."

"Wait… no one?"

"No."

"But.. what about Meg's party?"

"What party, Brian? There wasn't any party last night. Well, except the one in my pants!" He laughed at his own joke, then pushed past Brian on the way to the bathroom.

No party? But… he could have sworn… wasn't Meg's birthday party last night? He and Stewie had skipped out before anyone had come over, preferring adventuring to a girl's birthday, but… no one? Brian changed course and went into Stewie's room.

"Hey, Stewie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have surveillance on the house?"

"Do I still have- do I- Brian. _Brian_. What do you take me for?"

Stewie wrenched a lever in the toy box, revealing a panel of surveillance screens behind a bedroom wall.

"Can you rewind any of them" He asked, but looking at Stewie's face proved he hadn't needed to. At a press all the screens began buzzing backwards and Brian stopped him around the 7pm mark the previous evening. Lois had just tucked Stewie in and closed Brian in the bedroom with him. As he and Stewie set up their decoys and snuck into the time machine, he saw Lois retreat to the kitchen and begin talking with Peter. Chris was in his bedroom, back (thankfully) to the camera, computer screen (mercilessly) not, and Meg was sitting on her bed, legs tucked underneath her, chin resting on her windowsill.

Stewie sped up the tape as the family went about their business, slowing it down when Meg stood from her bed and marked her calendar.

"What is this about, Brian? Everything was normal last night." Stewie asked.

"No it wasn't," Brian said, "Yesterday was Meg's birthday."

"Meg's birthday?" Stewie asked, "Oh, oh yes. I seem to remember something- oh, well. No one remembered obviously."

"Someone did." Brian said, narrowing his eyes as he watched Meg. She had pulled out her diary, thumbed a few pages back, and read it with a strangely wistful look on her face. She looked to her phone, typed a bit on it, then put it down and went into the bathroom.

"Brian…" Stewie asked, raising an eyebrow at the dog, "Why are we watching my sister take a shower?"

"Oh just skip over it. This is important." Brian said. Stewie shuddered, shrugged, and jumped a few minutes. After Meg was out of the shower she picked up her phone again and smiled widely. She typed again, then dressed, typed, then dried her hair, then finally typed on her way down the stairs. She paused for just a moment at the door, listening for Peter and Lois, then holding her phone, and when the screen lit up it was apparently the confirmation she needed, and she left.

"Where is she going?" Stewie asked.

"To Quagmire's house."

"Why would she go to Quagmire's house in the middle of the night?"

"Well, um, Stewie- when a man and a woman-"

"What? What are you talking about, Brian?"

"Well… when… you know how Peter and Lois… erm… made you?"

"Yeah?"

"Well…"

"... OH, _EWW_!"

* * *

"Brian, we cannot let this man and his errant phallus corrupt my sister."

"Stewie, what the hell? Seriously."

"But Briiiian, she's my siiiiister." Stewie groaned, making his eyes as big as saucers.

"Well it's too late, they've already-"

"LA LA LA LA I DON'T WANT TO HEAR LA LA LA-"

"Okay, well then what should we do?"

"Hmm..." Stewie thought for a moment, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "If the fat man knew, do you think he would put a stop to this wild behavior?"

"Do we really want to involve Peter in this? I mean, it was different when it was Quagmire chasing Meg, but now- I don't know."

"Why is this any different?" Stewie asked. Brian looked down, contemplating. He remembered Meg's words from last night, _"You're a hypocrite and a bore."_

"She was right..." Brian said.

"Right? Who was right?"

"Meg. She was right about me. Last night, when I caught her coming home- she said that Quagmire was right about me, that I was a hypocrite and a bore. I talk a big game about women's rights and their freedom to do what any guy would do, but when it comes right down to it I can't trust an adult woman to make a correct decision about her own life."

"But Brian, this _is_ different. We're talking about _Quagmire_ here."

"I know, I know." Brian said, "I just... I wish I could know for _sure_. If I knew _for sure_ that this was actually Meg's decision, I think I might feel better about letting it go."

"Well, what if you follow her?"

"What do you mean?"

"We'll keep an eye on her, watch for the next time she goes over to Quagmire's house. Maybe if you follow her, and can listen in, it will become clear exactly what is going on between them."

"You want me to watch them have sex." Brian said, eyebrow raised.

"Did I say that, Brian? Follow her, listen to their pre-coitus conversation, then make your decision."

"Pre-coitus, eh?"

"Oh, I got stuck with the Fat Man watching The Big Bang theory the other day. Come on, let's go to Quagmire's house and find you a good hiding spot."


	3. Confrontation

**Let's get physical, physical**

* * *

Brian kept a close eye on Meg all day, tailing her from a distance as she went from her room to the laundry room, to the kitchen, and back. He tried to stay behind doors, around corners, and generally out of sight, and luckily no one else in the family noticed. Brian hadn't realized how caught up in their own business everyone was in this house. He started to muse on the fact that Meg snuck out at all last night when she probably could have invited Quagmire over and no one would have noticed.

Brian also began to realize how lonely Meg's life was. He had always assumed that when everyone else was about their business, Meg was out with friends or going around town, but here she was- sitting alone in her room, reading a book, or buzzing the internet, or painting her nails. This little room was where Meg spent the majority of her life- no wonder she was looking for a little bit of excitement.

Brian was just about to give up his vigil when Meg's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket, read the message, and grinned widely. She began typing back, then held the phone in front of her in wait for a reply.

"Maybe it's not him…" Brian warned himself, resisting the urge to barge in and demand the cell from her, "Maybe it's one of her friends."

After a few more back-and-forth texts, Meg stood from the bed, preened herself in her mirror, and went toward the door. Brian turned and sprinted down the hall, just in time to turn around and pretend that he had just been casually walking past.

"Oh, hey there, Meg." He greeted her. She glared down at him and turned away without a word.

"Hold up there, where are you going?" He asked, straining to sound casual. She ignored him and flounced downstairs, passing Peter and Lois in similar silence before walking out the door. Brian growled and ran downstairs, but turned the corner and snuck out through the kitchen door. He peered around the house, catching a glimpse of Meg as she disappeared into Quagmire's house.

"Damn it!" he hissed.

"What's going on, Brian?" Stewie asked, startling him.

"Where did you come from? Never mind, Meg-"

"I know, she's at Quagmire's house." He showed Brian a handheld screen showing a map of the vicinity with little yellow lights scattered around, "I've implanted everyone we know with a tracking chip."

"Why… why would you do that?"

"Do you know how many of our plot lines are spent trying to find someone who got lost? Seriously, it's getting to be a problem. But that's not the point. Look!" he pointed at Quagmire's house, where the two yellow lights had gone from being a few feet apart, to right next to each other.

"Oh, crap I'm too late!"

"Not yet, Brian. Not if you hurry."

* * *

"How ya doin?" Quagmire asked, pressing his lips to Meg's neck. She wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing him closer to her and giggled.

"Just fine."

His hands traced down to her hips, playing with the edge of her shirt before grasping it and pulling it off. She smiled, feeling the heat rise in her face, before reaching over and beginning to unbutton his shirt, pressing her lips to his. She had been surprised by how gentle he had been, given his reputation. He had been nothing but patient with her the night before, and even now they were going slower than she had expected.

"Want to go to the bedroom" He asked, a low growl in his voice. She smiled, looking up at him through hooded eyes. "I'll see you there."

* * *

She noticed with amusement that his heart-shaped bed had reinforced stainless steel legs. She laid down on it, spreading her arms over the silk sheets, basking in the feel of them against her almost-bare back. She sat up and pulled off her shoes, tossing them into the hallway with her socks, and began to unbutton her jeans when Glenn came back.

"C'mon, babe. You know that's my favorite part."

"Liar."

"You're right." He smiled, "All of it is my favorite part."

He had changed into his boxers and robe, but left the robe hanging open. She leaned back, letting Glenn undo her jeans and slide them down her legs. He tossed them in a pile with her shoes, then crawled on top of her. Her heart fluttered as his weight pressed on her and he took her face in his hands.

"Good so far?"

"Stop asking, Glenn." She said, blushing, "I told you yesterday, I'm just fine."

"You won't be." He said wickedly, then covered her mouth with his. He took her wrists in his hands and pulled up her arms, wrapping her hands around the bars of his bed, then reached down and pushed his hands under her bra. She arched her back at his touch, moaning into his mouth and biting his lip. She could feel his erection swelling and she spread her legs wider, concentrating on the feeling of him pressed up against her, even through the cloth-

"MEG!"

Quagmire bolted up, his eyes wide at first, then narrowing.

"Brian?! What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"I came to stop her!" He said, then turned his attention to Meg "I came to protect you from him!"

"Hold on now, Brian. We don't need to overreact here. I mean, there's no reason to get, say, Peter involved in any of-"

"Why not, Quagmire? What do you have to hide?"

"Fuck you, Brian!" Meg screamed, standing from the bed and slapping him hard across the face. Brian held a hand to his stinging cheek, trying not to let tears well in his eyes. "I am a grown woman, and I can do what I want. And I want to fuck Quagmire."

"But Meg-"

"Are you jealous, Brian? Because you had your chance. Remember? You blew me off, you said you hated me, and you know what? You don't deserve me. My love, or my friendship." She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"I never… I didn't say I-"

"Get out, Brian." Quagmire said, "And don't tell Peter."

"Are you going to stop me?" He asked.

"No," Meg said, taking Brian up by the collar, "but I will."

The punch landed with pinpoint precision, knocking Brian backwards out of the bedroom. He sat still for a moment, his world spinning, coming to just in time to see Meg slam Quagmire's bedroom door shut.

Brian worked his tongue around his mouth, counting his teeth, before gingerly reaching up to his nose. It didn't feel broken, it was more of a throw, really. He'd have a nasty goose egg in the morning though. He picked himself up from the carpet, cast a sidelong glance at the bedroom door, and trudged down the stairs, leaving whatever dignity he had behind him.

* * *

"Woah, Meg. You okay?"

"You know what, Glenn? I am sick of answering that question." She took him by the robe and pushed him down on the bed, straddling him.

"What, uh, what are you doing?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you okay, Glenn?" She asked mockingly.

"Umm… what? I don't- "

"Well, you won't be." She smiled wickedly. She felt Glenn's erection pulse underneath her and her chest felt like it was going to burst. She leaned forward and pushed his robe off his shoulders, grasping his wrists and placing them on the bars above his bed, before standing and practically wrenching his boxers down. She shed her bra and panties quickly and straddled him. She took his erection in her hands, stroking the shaft as she watched Glenn's face. She smiled, reveling in the power that she had over him. Glenn groaned low in his throat, closing his eyes at her touch. She shifted down, pressing the head of his penis to her lips.

"Do you like this, Glenn?" She asked, blowing casually on him. His eyes shot open and he stared down at her, freeing one hand from the bar. She squeezed him, pressing her fingernails oh-so-slightly into the shaft.

"Don't let go, Glenn." She said. He replaced his hand. She began stroking him again, running her lips over the head before slipping it into her mouth. He groaned and raised his hips toward her, pressing himself deeper into her mouth. She kept it up for a while, her eyes trained on his face the whole time, until he seemed to be getting close. She stood up, wiping her mouth with the corner of his bed sheet. He stared at her, his face confused and slightly betrayed.

"Meg, what are you-"

"Did you think we were done?" She asked, crawling towards him on her knees and straddling him. She reached down and positioned him before leaning back down, sheathing his full length inside of her. She felt a chill go up her back and she began moving. She felt the rumble of a soft moan make its way up her throat, echoing out into the bedroom. Soon the sounds of her pleasure were joined by his, and they rocked in rhythm to a song only the two of them could hear.

* * *

"Geez, what the hell happened to you, Brian?" Peter asked, glancing at Brian as he came in through the front door.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Peter." Brian said, sighing, and went into the bathroom. He locked the door and turned on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. He reached under the sink, feeling for the second bottle of Jack he kept taped there, before remembering that he had drank that one a few nights ago. He didn't even have the energy to be mad about it. Instead, he stepped up to the sink and ran the faucet, pooling cool water in his hands and splashing it onto his face. His nose was tender, his cheek swollen, and the back of his head felt like he had been shot, but it didn't seem as if any permanent damage had been done. Well, physically anyway. He washed his beaten face tenderly.

As he was drying off, he heard a knock on the door.

"Brian? Brian, are you in there?"

"Hey Stewie." Brain said, opening the door. Stewie wrinkled his nose at the smell of Brian's wet fur before saying, "Well, did you stop them?"

"You tell me, mister tracking-device." Brian grumbled. Stewie glanced at the device's screen, "But, Brian- there's only one light there, just vibrati- OH MY GOD." He tossed the screen to the side, shaking his head, "So what happened?"

"She kicked me out." Brian said, "I was almost in time to stop them, but… she didn't want me to."

"As awful as that is, I suppose that answers your question. It _was_ Meg's idea."

"Yeah…" Brian said, rubbing the back of his head.

"What's the matter, Brian? Isn't that what you wanted to know?"

"No, no, it was. It's just… I don't know. I guess I've always been on, well, _friendly_ terms with her. Why would she- I mean, she didn't even _think_ about me yesterday…"

"Why would she think abou- wait a minute. Brian, are you _in love_ with Meg?"

"What? No. No, why would you even say that? Of course not. No."

"Oh my god, you totally are! You are _so_ in love with Meg! Ahaha, that's so gross!"

"No, Stewie, I'm not in love with her. I mean, all she wanted was a friend yesterday. Just… someone to say 'hi' on her birthday. Why didn't she even look for me? I mean, we were right down the hall.

"No we weren't. We were in Germany, 1942."

"You know what I mean."

"Look, Brian, Meg isn't a little girl anymore. And you have to admit, no one has been treating her very nicely here. It's not so unreasonable that she would look somewhere else for some kindness."

"I suppose you're right."

"I _am_ right. Just as I'm right about you being in love with her."

"Damn it, Stewie!"

"Oh, all right, all right. I'll stop...B _ri-an and Me-eg sittin' in a tree_ -"

Brian jabbed Stewie in the ribs sharply, cutting him off. As he recovered, Brian said, "Well what should we do now?"

"Honestly, Brian? Nothing." Stewie said, "You know how Quagmire is. He'll be finished with her soon enough, and when he leaves her for good, you can look all the better by giving her her space and being by her side to comfort her when he does."

"What if he doesn't though?"

"Seriously, Brian? I counted eleven women in one night, just one right after the other. He'll be bored with her soon. I promise."


	4. Tense

**Let's get physical, physical**

* * *

 _~Three months later~_

Quagmire sat up from his bed, running a hand through his hair. Behind him, Meg was sprawled out, quietly breathing. He reached over and pulled the sheet up over her and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. It had taken a while, at least by Quagmire's standards, for Meg to convince him to let her stay the night. The first time they had made sure that she had a viable alibi, even though he doubted Peter or Lois would be following up on it, and in proof of this she had stayed over several nights, this being her third night in a row, with nary a peep from her parents.

He had maintained his friendship with Peter through it all, paying attention to see if Peter would complain about Meg being difficult or insubordinate, but in actuality he started expressing relief at her lack of attitude recently.

"I don't know what the hell happened, but whatever it is I like it." He had drunkenly declared one day. Quagmire's gut reaction was to crack a joke about Meg finally getting laid, after which he bit his tongue and waited, but no one had seemed to notice. For once he was grateful of the reputation he had built for himself, and that any lascivious jokes or suggestions would thusly be ignored.

Quagmire stretched and stood from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. After closing the door and relieving himself, he turned on the shower faucet and shed his robe. The warm water felt nice running over his scalp and down his back. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the slight bruises and teeth marks that Meg had left behind last night. She had begun to get more adventurous, which was something he liked, but he did have a bruise on his left buttock that was being a particularly stubborn healer.

The bathroom door creaked open and he peered around the door to the shower stall. Meg was standing behind the door, holding the bedsheet to her seductively.

"What are you doing?" He asked salaciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, Quagmire. I'm such a dirty girl. Won't you clean me up?" She purred, dropping the sheet and pushing aside the stall door. She stepped in next to him, wrapping her arms around his slick torso. He returned the embrace, moving the sprayer to pour down on the top of her head. She angled her face up and kissed him as he pressed his hands into her slick breasts.

She grabbed a bar of soap and began running it over his chest, around his neck, and down his arms. He took it from her and returned the favor, running the soap along her breasts and around her belly before sinking to his knees. He pushed his fingers into her labia, pressing his fingers inside of her. She whimpered and leaned back, angling her hips so her legs opened wider. Glenn smiled and leaned forward, flicking his tongue over her clitoris before pressing his mouth against her. She moaned at a higher pitch and reached down, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"How do you do it, Glenn?" She moaned, feeling her hips begin to sway in rhythm with his tongue.

"It's the alphabet trick." He laughed, reaching up to squeeze her breast while the other stroked inside of her.

"The alphabet trick?" She sighed, her voice hitching in the middle.

"A," He said, tracing the letter on her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, "B-" flicking it inside of her and skirting the edges of her labia, "C-"

"Fuck me, Glenn." Meg moaned. She was slick and swollen and had begun panting lightly. Glenn grinned and stood up, his erection standing straight and hard. He hooked his hands on her hips and guided himself inside her, smooth as cream.

"You purr like a kitten," He whispered, taking her earlobe in his lips. She bit his cheek playfully and pushed him away. He stepped back and she turned around, pressing her hands to the glass.

"Oh, goodness." She said innocently, "I seem to have forgotten my panties today, surely someone won't come by and take advantage." She said, arching her back. Glenn growled playfully and approached, reaching around her body to press his fingers into her clit as he slid in from behind.

It didn't take long after that, their moans echoing in the bathroom until Meg cried out first, her voice like a song, before Glenn followed suit and felt himself release. He basked for only a second though in the post-sex glow before realizing with a hollow thud in his heart that he hadn't had a condom. Meg was panting, pulling her hair back behind her head and reaching out for Glenn's shampoo. He reached out for her wrist.

"Meg- I… I didn't pull out."

"What?"

"I came inside of you."

"Umm, yeah. I could feel it, Glenn." She said with a shrug.

"No, seriously. I came inside of you. I mean… are you on birth control?"

"Well, no." She said, pulling her wrist out of his hand.

"No? This is important! We need to get you a, like, a pill or something..."

"Don't worry about it." She said, frowning.

"You can't get pregnant, Meg. I mean it. I mean, Peter's reaction alone..."

"I said don't worry about it." Meg replied, furrowing her brow. She opened the stall door and stepped out, grabbing a towel. "I think I should be getting home." She said, wrapping it around her body.

"I can't let you leave until I know that you are going to do something about this."

"You can't _let me_?" She said incredulously, "You let me suck your dick, you let me fuck you almost every day for _months_ , you let me-urgh! You'll let me do fucking _anything_ , but you won't let me leave?"

"What the fuck is your problem?" Glenn said, "I can't be a father, you know that."

"Aren't you _already_ a father, Glenn?" She bit back bitterly. Glenn straightened, aghast.

"I...how do you know about-"

"You have kids, Glenn. Multiple kids. You have some kids that are older than I am, right?" She said, "so what's one fucking more?"

"Meg, its diff-"

"Because you would take _responsibility_ for this one? Like I'm really _so_ different from any _other_ skank you bang."

There was a moment of tense silence, the only sound being the water still flowing from the shower head, running down Glenn's back.

"I am going to say something." Glenn announced, watching Meg's face, "may I say it uninterrupted?"

Meg sighed and nodded.

"Megan Griffin. I am a serial womanizer. I have had more flings and fucks and one night stands than anyone I have ever known. I've only had three serious relationships and they've all ended in death or heartbreak. I have never spent more than two or three nights with any casual fling. I thought I knew what I was doing, giving in to you like this. I thought you would just be like any other fling, just closer and more convenient. I didn't worry about it. I didn't have to. But now…"

He pressed a hand to his face, turning off the shower with his other. The silence after the white noise of the shower was almost deafening, the only background sound being the water dripping off of his gangly limbs. Meg took in the sight of him, Glenn Quagmire standing naked in front of her, his face looking like he just got punched. This was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been, and that thought scared her.

"I don't want to say that I love you, Meg, because I don't know if it's true." He said, "But what I have with you… well, it's precious to me, and it's different from any other relationship I've had in the past. So if you for some reason still think that you are just a disposable fling, by all means walk right out that door. But if you feel like I do, if you think that I'm important to you, and if you believe that you are important to me, then you will agree to prevent any pregnancy. I can't put you through that, I can't put you through something that I can not and will not support."

Meg considered a moment, her fingers pressing into the corner of his counter. This towel was scratchy. She was getting chilly, standing in the bathroom as the steam from the shower began to slowly dissipate. Her feet pressed into a well-worn bathroom rug, a rug that had been with Glenn before Meg, and would probably be with him afterwards. She lifted the corner of her mouth, laughing at her own melodrama. She was romanticizing a fucking bathroom mat.

Meg looked up at Quagmire, meeting his gaze, before gingerly stepping forward. She pressed her lips to his gently, bringing up her hand to cup his cheek, but when he moved to deepen the kiss she pulled away.

"I have to go home Quagmire." She said, refusing to look away from his face, "But I'll text you later, okay?"

He nodded in silence and made no effort to move, watching as she exited into the bedroom. Her movements were slow and deliberate as she dried herself off, wrapped her hair in the towel, and began gathering her scattered clothes from the bedroom floor. He felt himself sink down onto the closed toilet. He said nothing as she dressed herself and left his bedroom, not even looking back at him.

" _What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Quagmire?"_

* * *

Meg had been able to keep composure in front of Quagmire, but stepping out of his house was like releasing a dam and she felt her cheeks grow wet with tears. She brought her hands up to wipe them away, furious with embarrassment. She knew she looked like a mess. Her hair was still wet from the shower, her body still tingling from climax, her clothes were wrinkled, and she had only been able to find one sock. She was just glad that no one had seen her-

"Is that you, Meg?"

Fuck.

She looked up to see Joe Swanson. Her heart jumped in her chest, but she attempted to stay cool and collected.

"Oh, hey Mr. Swanson."

"What, uh, whacha doing there?" He asked, shifting his eyes from her disheveled appearance to Quagmire's house behind her.

"Just taking a walk."

"...Through Quagmire's house?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

"What? No, I just walked past-"

"I saw you, Meg." He said. Joe Swanson was the hardest person to have disappointed in you. Meg had experienced it before, the subtle, fatherly disapproval. She knew she couldn't hide anything from him. She also knew that he probably had his suspicions. There were some evenings when she went to Quagmire's when the Swansons were still awake, Joe and Bonnie's silhouettes flashing on the living room curtain as they watched late night television together. She had felt emboldened by her brazen behavior and had told herself that she didn't care who knew that she was carrying on an illicit secret affair with her older neighbor. She realized now that she _did_ care, she cared a lot, and she was ashamed.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Joe didn't seem angry, at least not with her, but it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. No, actually, she _did_ want to talk about it, but not here. Not in front of Glenn's house.

"Can I come over, Mr. Swanson?" Meg asked, feeling tears well in her eyes. Joe nodded, smiling up at her kindly, before spinning his wheelchair around and heading back towards his house.

* * *

Meg blew her nose again and took another long drink from the mug. This was her fourth cup of coffee and second box of tissues. Joe just sat calmly, hands resting forward on the table as if he was playing good cop in an interrogation. To be honest, though, that's what was really happening.

"So now I just… I don't know. I feel like a slut." She said. Joe breathed slowly out his nose, but didn't take his eyes off Meg's face.

"You aren't a slut, Meg." Joe affirmed, patting her hand kindly, "You are a young, confused woman who fell in love with the wrong kind of guy."

"I don't understand, though-" Meg said, leaning back and crossing her arms, "Dad said something similar when Glenn took me to the cabin last year, and now you're saying it- but you guys are friends with him? If he's really so bad, why do you guys hang out with him?"

"It's hard to say, Meg." Joe said with a sigh, "He's a great guy to hang out and have a beer with, and I suppose when you don't think that you have any personal stake in his destructive behavior you can kind of let it slide. When you were underage I suppose Peter and I didn't even think of it, and your parents thought they had scared him off pretty good last year." He looked at Meg's face, choosing his words carefully, "But I don't think they ever really considered what _you_ wanted. Did they, Meg?"

"What are you going to do, Mr. Swanson?"

"I'm going to be honest Meg, I don't know. I am going to have a talk with Glenn, that's the only thing for sure, but-"

"Oh, please Mr. Swanson, please, please, _please_ don't tell my parents. Do you know what my dad would do to Glenn? Do you know what he would do to _me_?"

"Quagmire would have it worse off." He said matter-of-factly. "They would be mad at you, but I'm sure Lois can understand and forgive a wild streak. Glenn, though, I mean… Meg. He's 62. If there is anyone in this whole situation who should have known better, it's Glenn Quagmire."

"They can't know. They just can't…" Meg sobbed, covering her face in her hands. Her whole body seemed to be swollen with embarrassment and shame. Her shoulders shook as she cried and she felt Joe wheel over and place a fatherly hand around her.

"I will do everything in my power to make this situation better, Meg. If that means telling Peter and Lois what Quagmire did to you, then that is what it is going to take. It all depends on what Quagmire says. If he was just using you or leading you on, I don't know that I can forgive that." Joe moved his hand to grasp her shoulder, "Your family has been so close to me over the years, even through our ups and downs, and I don't see you like my friend's daughter. You're like, well you're like a niece to me, Meg, and I don't want to see you hurt."

Meg sniffed and kept her eyes down, studying her crossed hands in her lap.

"Thank you, Mr. Swanson."

"You are welcome, Meg." Joe said, "I'm going to have a talk with Quagmire. You stay here and finish your drink."

As he turned away from the table, he saw Bonnie leaning in the doorway. She looked from Meg and back to Joe before nodding.

"Kick his ass, Joe."


	5. Aftermath

Glenn Quagmire poured himself a glass of wine and sank down onto his couch. Running a hand through his thinning hair, he propped his feet up on the leather footrest and cast a sidelong glance at his bookshelves. As he skimmed them, he realized with a sinking feeling that there was nothing here that could sufficiently distract him. What the hell was wrong with him? He had gotten into fights before, he'd gotten into worse fights before, and he never felt like this afterwards. He swirled the wine in his glass for a moment before gulping it all down in two swigs and tipping the bottle again. Well, what the fuck, right? She was fun for a while, but it was over now. She didn't love him. That was okay, he didn't love her.

"I _don't_ love her." He said, his voice edged with determination, and more than a little desperation.

He flipped on the TV a couple times, but kept turning it off. He reached out for a book, but couldn't concentrate on the words. He even tried a couple pornos, but it just made him sad.

"Pull yourself out of it, Quagmire." He growled, finishing his third glass of wine. As he reached for the bottle again there was a knock on the door. He felt elated for a moment, thinking it might be Meg, but when the knock came again he realized that it was a heavier, more insistent knock than Meg's light, almost apologetic taps.

"Who-Who's there?" Quagmire asked, cursing himself almost immediately. If it was Peter, he just admitted that he was home..

"Quagmire, it's Joe."

Oh, thank God. Just Joe. He was probably over just to return the books he borrowed. Glenn threw back the last of his wine and opened the door.

"What's up, Joe?"

"Sit down, Quagmire." Joe said, "We need to talk."

* * *

Brian was sitting in the kitchen with his headphones in, typing rapidly on his laptop. He had been inspired late in the evening and had finally found the peace to just sit and write this scene. He was so involved in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed Meg.

"Woah! Oh, uh, hey Meg." He said, popping out his earbuds and tossing them on the table. Meg looked morose, leaning forward on her elbows. She kept her gaze cast down and before she could even speak her face flushed red.

"What's going on Meg?" Brian asked, leaning forward over his laptop. Meg shook her head at first and then buried her face in her hands

"I've been stupid, Brian. I'm sorry." she said, her voice hitching in her throat. Brian was surprised and pleased by the apology, but was concerned about what had brought it on. He considered for a moment before his heart dropped in his chest

"Please tell me you aren't pregnant."

"No. I mean, I don't think I am." She said. Brian closed his laptop and leaned over it, searching Meg's face.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"I won't get graphic, but let's just say there's a possibility. I won't know for a couple weeks..."

"Brian sighed and closed his eyes, trying to figure out an appropriate reaction, before saying, "How long ago?"

Meg bit her lip and shook her head. Her face was burning red and she seemed to sink into herself.

"How about this. Nod if it was in the last day or so. Shake if longer."

Meg was still for a long time, before giving the barest of nods.

"Okay then." Brian stood and fished his keys from his pocket.

"What?" Meg asked, looking worried.

"I'm going to take you to the pharmacy."

"You...Brian. I was so mean to you... I mean..."

"It's going to be okay, Meg." Brian said, "That's what friends are for."

* * *

"What's up, Joe?" Quagmire asked uneasily, watching his friend wheel into the center of the living room and turned, his face stern.

"Take a seat, Glenn." Joe said, gesturing to the couch. Quagmire crossed his arms.

"What is this about, Joe? I don't like playing interrogation without a pair of handcuffs and a leather thong.

" I wouldn't make those jokes right now if I were you." Joe said, "It's about Meg."

Quagmire went white, the color draining from his face like a bathtub. He tried to play it off, shaking his head and saying, "What, about her grades or something? I think you're at the wrong house, Joe." He laughed nervously, scratching his arm, but Joe kept his gaze. Glenn's face fell and he sank into his couch.

"Do you want to tell me what's been going on?" Joe asked, using the authoritative voice Glenn had only ever heard in select situations. Joe was serious, and this could mean serious consequences, "And I swear to God, Quagmire, if you lie to me-"

"It sounds like you already know." Quagmire said, "So can you at least let me keep a little dignity?"

"You don't have any dignity, Quagmire.- Joe said, then sighed, " just tell me what happened. That's all I want to know."

"What do you think is going on, Joe? What, did she come running to you to tell on me? Or did you just see her one night and decide to play the virgin's vigilante?"

"I saw her coming out of your house this morning, Quagmire, and she was crying."

"Wait, crying?" He said, furrowing his brow. What did she have to cry about? He had opened his fucking soul to her, and she leaves in a huff and starts crying? Really?

"Meg already told me everything, I just want to hear your side of it."

"Don't do that to me, Joe. Don't play that good cop shit with me." He groaned and ran a hand over his head. He reached over to the wine bottle, refilling his glass. Joe raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"You're gonna drink?."

"Don't even fucking start." Quagmire glowered and took a deliberate sip from the glass. Joe sighed and shook his head.

"Okay then, Quagmire. How do you want to do this?"

"I have options? Oh, okay, how about a large dose of 'I don't' with a side of 'go to hell'?"

"There are two ways this can go." Joe said, leaning forward, "You tell me what you have done, civilly, or I head straight next door and blow the whole situation wide open."

Quagmire glowered at Joe for a moment before swirling his wine and kicking it back.

"Fine, Joe. Have it your way." Quagmire said, defeated, "It began three months ago..."

* * *

Meg rested her chin on her palm, blowing fog onto the window of the car. Brian had disappeared into the pharmacy just a few minutes ago. She tried her hardest to keep her mind clear, the last thing she wanted to think of was Glenn or Brian or Joe or any of it. She couldn't suppress the fear in her heart, wondering what she would be coming home to. She brought her finger up, tracing her name in the fog before wiping it away with the side of her hand. As she cleared the glass, she peered outside and watched as a slow trickle of water bled into a storm drain.

She cast her eyes up to the trees, squinting in the fluttering sunlight between the leaves. She pressed a hand to the cool glass and closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Joe was at Quagmire's house right now, or he had finished and was either back at his house or having a conference with Peter and Lois. Oh, god, Peter and Lois. What would they say? What would they do? She pulled her cell out of her pocket, flipping it open and studying the empty message folder, a sense of hollow déjà vu sweeping over her. Would her parents text her or wait until she got home? Would Glenn text her after Joe was done? What… what would he do if she texted him? She opened a new message and thought a long time before typing and hitting send before she could stop herself. She read over her text several times before flipping her phone shut and pressing it back into her pocket. It was done, it was sent. Now all she could do was wait.

Right about then Brian stepped out of the pharmacy, single bag swinging from his wrist. She turned away from the window, staring down at her crossed hands in her lap and studying her fingernails until Brian opened the driver's side door.

"All right…" Brian said, reaching into the bag and handing Meg a bottle of water. He flipped the box over in his hand and read over the back, mumbling lightly to himself before nodding.

"Okay, looks like you just take this pill and you're good." He said, popping the box open and handing her the blister packet. She weighed it in her palm, pressing into the seal with the pad of her thumb.

"Brian… why are you helping me?" She asked, keeping her eyes down. Brian considered a moment, studying Meg as she flipped the packet over in her fingers before letting out a long breath through his nose.

"Because, Meg, I know how you feel." He said, "I've been in every kind of relationship you can imagine. I've held on to secret love that I couldn't ever express. I've been in highly physical relationships and ignored the bigger questions of sustainability of even safety. I...I know what you were thinking, the day I tried to stop you, and I know that I wasn't just thinking about your well-being, it was a selfish thing to do."

"Selfish?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're family, Meg." Brian said, looking into her eyes, "I remembered your birthday, but I thought other people would come to your party. I didn't realize everyone else had forgotten, and I was disappointed that you went to Quagmire instead of... I don't know." Brian said, pressing on the steering wheel, "I guess I always thought that, even through all the teasing, that we were better friends than that. It was shitty of me to not come to the party, and I overstepped my bounds when I went to Quagmire's house. So... I suppose this is the least I could do."

Meg watched Brian a moment, then smiled softly. She pressed her fingernail into the seal and popped out the pill. She weighed it in her hand before tossing it into her mouth and chugging some water.

"So that's that." She said, replacing the cap on the water bottle. Brian nodded.

"You'll still want to keep an eye out," he warned, "but you should be in the clear."

"Thanks, Brian." Meg said.

"You're welcome, Meg." Brian smiled. Meg leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face to his shoulder. He brought up his arms to return the embrace and he sighed internally. Maybe he was in love with Meg, maybe he was confusing his protectiveness for love, or maybe-

Brian's phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, breaking his train of thought. He raised his eyebrows apologetically and pulled the phone out of his pocket.

It was Quagmire


	6. Goodbye

Joe sat motionless, leaning forward in his chair. Quagmire had his arms crossed, refusing to look Joe in the face, and there was an ominous, unsettling silence.

"I don't think I understand you right." Joe said, pressing a palm to his forehead.

"Whatever, Joe. Okay? Forget I said anything." Quagmire said, picking up the wine bottle, forgetting that he had emptied it a while ago.

"No, but, Quagmire- do you realize how crazy this sounds?" Joe said, "I mean, it's not possible. You know that. Any kind of future, any kind of _relationship_. It's not possible. At all."

"I fucking _know_ Joe, okay? I _know._ "

"I don't think you do." Joe said, his voice tinged with a concern that made Glenn's skin crawl, "I mean, this isn't just… this isn't just like 'oh that wacky Quagmire!' I mean...you've been carrying on an affair with our friend's daughter. And I mean, from what I understand about it, you are both very emotionally involved."

"Does that make it better or worse, Joe? That I might care about her?"

"Worse." Joe said without hesitation, "Quagmire, you aren't a relationships kind of guy, and you know it. I might be able to let this go if it was just a fling, or if you were just hooking up with her. I mean, she's perfectly capable of making her own decisions and you're both technically available, but… you don't do well with relationships. And she's fragile."

Quagmire scoffed "How would you know anything about it?"

"Because she fell in love with me, Quagmire."

Glenn raised an eyebrow at that and considered a moment.

"You didn't fuck her, did you? I mean, can you still...you know?"

"No! Oh, god no! And fuck you." Joe said, furrowing his brows, "Remember when Bonnie went out of town for a few days and she had Meg check in on me and Susie? Quagmire, all I did was tell her that I wasn't embarrassed to be seen with her. She let it get to her head and she fell head-over-heels, and fast. It's just in her nature, and with someone like you… it's just a volatile situation from all angles."

Quagmire was quiet for a while, running over his conversation with Joe, as well as the things he had said to Meg this morning. He had been truthful with her, after all. He _did_ care about her, but what Joe was saying made sense. All his serious relationships failed, after all, and Meg was only 19. She didn't have Glenn's life experience, she didn't have the strength of character to handle relationships and rejection at the same level he did, and that was something that he had forgotten.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked to Joe, seeing if he had heard it, but Joe hadn't reacted.

"I'll be right back." Quagmire said and went into the bathroom. He looked at the phone, it was from Meg. He read the message a couple times before thinking a moment and sending his reply. He reached for the door handle, but reconsidered a moment. He took out the phone and selected Meg's name, deleting the text history, before replacing the phone in his pocket and coming back out to the living room.

"You've given me a lot to think about, Joe." Quagmire said, looking at his friend. Joe raised a questioning eyebrow.

"So what are you going to do?"

"You said it yourself, Joe, Meg and I aren't just hooking up. We're both emotionally involved, which means we need to work it out together."

"I don't know that I can trust you to do that, Quagmire." Joe said, "I mean, if she were anyone else I might just leave it alone, but this is Meg. This is your best friend's _daughter_. You've known her for _how long_? I mean, you're practically a third parent. You didn't just take advantage of Meg, you also violated Peter and Lois' trust."

"Last year I told Peter _explicitly_ what my intentions were." Quagmire said, crossing his arms, "And after they came to the cabin to stop us and Lois told me to stay away for a while, I did just that, but I never said that it was never a possibility. Not to mention, as a point in my defense, that I was not the one who sought her out- by her own admission. I'll admit, it was just casual fucking at first, but now it's become more, and it isn't, nor was it ever, your business."

Joe sighed through his nose, shaking his head softly.

"I'm disappointed, Glenn. I don't know why, though. I want to say that I thought you were a better man than this, but we both know that's not true."

"I guess it's not." Quagmire said, crossing his arms over his chest, "You may see yourself out now, Joe."

Joe shook his head and turned around. He paused at the door, looked back as if he wanted to say something else, but apparently thought better of it and left. Quagmire shut the door behind him and bolted it. He considered watching Joe to see if he would go to the Griffin's, but he had a feeling he didn't have to worry about it. He pulled out his cell phone, flipped back and forth in his contacts for a few moments, then dialed.

"What the fuck do you want?" Brian answered.

"Are you with her?" He asked.

"What's it to you if I am?" Brian said.

"Just, excuse yourself or something. I need to talk to you."

There was a moment of silence, then Quagmire heard some murmuring, shuffling, and the sound of a car door.

"What." Brian demanded.

"I need to end this, Brian." Quagmire said, "and I swear to you that if you help me you will never have to see me again. I think that would be in our mutual benefit."

"I'm...I'm listening." Brian said.

"I need you to make an excuse for Meg tonight and take her to an address I'll text you, then go back to my house. I'll leave more instructions on the coffee table."

"You'll leave Meg alone afterwards?"

"You will never see me again." He promised. Brian was silent for an uncomfortably long time before sighing.

"Okay."

"Have her there by 5." Quagmire said, then hung up. He sent Brian the address, then set his phone down. Looking at his clock he groaned. He needed to sober up, he needed to take a shower, he needed to meet Meg in four hours. Better get started.

* * *

Meg stepped out of Brian's car, folding a lock of her hair behind her ear. Brian smiled kindly at her from the driver's seat.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Brian?" Meg asked, her voice uncertain. Brian smiled and nodded softly.

"You know you can't just not see him again," Brian said, "and maybe, I don't know, this will help."

"Why do you want to help him?"

"It's not helping him, it's helping you." Brian offered, "I mean, you like him, right?"

"Well...yeah." Meg admitted.

"I want you to be happy. If Glenn Quagmire makes you happy, well... I'll be there to support you."

"...Thanks, Brian." Meg said and shut the door behind her. Brian watched Meg disappear into the hotel restaurant, his chest feeling heavy, before starting the car again and driving away.

* * *

Quagmire was already at a booth, glass of wine in hand, when Meg came in. He raised his arm over his head, beckoning her to the table. She looked radiant. She wore a blue dress that flowed like water from the cinched waist. She had a black shawl, black pumps, and had curled her hair oh so slightly. He suddenly felt self conscious in his sport coat and light blue undershirt, but brushed the feeling aside.

"Hello, Meg." He said, motioning her to sit. She did so, sliding into the booth opposite him. The waiter approached and after a set of judgmental eye sweeps, took their orders and sauntered off.

"So...Glenn-"

"Listen, Meg-"

"I just-

"I need-"

They were both quiet for a long stretch, then Meg spoke first. "I didn't... I was wrong. This morning." She fiddled with her dinner napkin, "You were right to worry, and when Joe saw me leaving your house everything kind of came out. He didn't tell my parents though."

Quagmire smiled and leaned back in his chair, running his finger over the rim of his glass, before finally saying, "Do you want to get out of here?"

"But, our food?" Meg said, glancing around for the waiter.

"Don't worry about it." He said, "I got a room for the night."

He kept his gaze on her as she thought for a moment, then blushed furiously.

" _Glenn!_ " She scoffed.

"C'mon, baby." He said, standing up and offering her his arm. She took it, her face heating in the passing glances of the other diners as they left together, arm in arm, toward the elevator.

* * *

Meg woke up blearily, her face pressed into the pillow. She sat up, momentarily confused as to where she was before remembering that she had stayed the night with Quagmire in a hotel. She pressed her palms into the silky sheets, pressing herself back down into the pillows and moaning softly and smiling.

"This room is so nice, Glenn." She said. She reached out her hand to feel the other side of the bed, but it was cold. She opened her eyes and leaned up, looking around. There was no sign of him.

"Glenn?" She asked, sitting up in the bed. She let the sheet slip away from her bare body as she stood, pressing her feet into the plush carpet.

"Glenn?" She leaned around the corner, looking into the bathroom, but there was nothing. Even the spread of miniature soaps was untouched. She frowned and went back into the main room, looking around at the other side of the bed. His clothes were gone. She searched around the room a little bit more, her heart sinking in her chest, before seeing a note on the door.

 _Meg,_

 _Thank you for everything you have given me._

 _-Glenn_

Meg, crushed the note in her hand, then spun around to find her purse. It had been flung haphazardly into a corner the night before. She pulled out her cell phone, but realized with a thud that Quagmire's contact information, as well as their whole text history, had been deleted. At a loss, Meg gathered up her clothes from the night before and put them on before going into the bathroom and washing the old makeup from her face, pulling her hair back into a plain ponytail and picking up her phone again and dialing a number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Brian."

"Oh, hey."

"Can you… can you pick me up?" She asked, hearing her voice betray her.

"Yeah, Meg. No problem."

"Thanks."

* * *

"Your parents think that you were at a school dance." Brian said as they pulled up to the house, "I told them that you crashed at a friend's house last night."

"I haven't been in high school for a year." Meg said, eyebrow raised, but at a look from Brian she sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I know."

"They mean well, you know." Brian said, "They care about the big things."

"No they don't. My nineteenth birthday, my high school graduation… they have never cared."

"They care, Meg. In their own way." Brain said, "I won't give an excuse because I don't understand all of their processes, but I know that you've had your moments with them in the past."

"Brian… I think that the only people who have ever cared about me have been you and Quagmire."

"Look, Meg- about Quagmire."

"I know, Brian. You were right about him the first time. You knew he would-"

"No, Meg… you don't understand." Brian interrupted, "Quagmire… Quagmire's gone."

"What?" Meg asked, "Do you mean… like, he… did something _happen_?"

"No, no, nothing like that, Meg. He's not, like, _dead_ , or anything, he's just… gone. He moved."

"Moved? He was with me _last night_." Meg said incredulously.

"Go take a look." Brian said, gesturing to Quagmire's house. Meg stepped out of the car slowly, looking from Brian, to Glenn's house, and back, before beginning her walk. No way. Brian was just yanking her leg. Maybe Glenn had to work this morning and had forgotten, that's why he left her sometime in the night. Maybe Brian had seen him driving early this morning and mistook it for something else-

The living room was empty. The giant bay window was blank, the curtains having been torn down, and the room inside was completely bare. Meg gasped lightly, her brain searching for a brief moment, before she reached into her purse and pulled out her copy of Glenn's house key. It still turned in the lock and she opened the door.

Everything was gone. All the furniture, all the rugs, all the paintings, everything. His bedroom was barren, the bathroom stripped, the closets all cleaned out. Everything that was Glenn Quagmire in the house, aside from the paint on the walls, was gone. Suddenly overcome, Meg sank to her knees in the center of the naked bedroom and cried into her hands.

* * *

Brian watched Meg disappear into Quagmire's house before pulling out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He opened it, pressing the folded corners against the steering wheel before reading over it again.

 _Brian,_

 _I've been in Quahog too long. A few weeks ago I was offered a promotion from the airline, but it required a relocation. I've always lived light just in case I needed to get away, I just never thought I would need to do it. I've hired a moving company to come through and clear out my house tonight, I need you to let them in while Meg and I are out. I don't want her to know where I've gone. My disappearance is as much for her as it is for me. I'll send you my new address in a few days, so if you could look out for any mail that needs to be forwarded I would appreciate it._

 _I can't believe that, out of everyone from my life here in Quahog, you are the one I can trust the most in this matter._

 _May life be kind to you, Brian._

 _I still hate you._

 _-Glenn Quagmire_

Brian sighed and ripped up the note, pressing the ripped pieces back into his pocket, and stepped out of his car.

* * *

 _~Six Days Later~_

Meg tiptoed into the kitchen, keeping an ear out for movement from upstairs. She couldn't sleep tonight, like many nights, and came down to see if there were any leftovers that would be good to eat cold. She opened the refrigerator, but frowned in disappointment before closing it again. She was about to go upstairs before she heard Brian's ringtone coming from the living room.

The phone was the only light in the living room and Brian was nowhere to be found, he must have left it behind. She thought he was in Stewie's room tonight so she grabbed it, intending to take it up to him, before the name on the screen caught her attention.

 **G. Quagmire.**

Wait… Quagmire? Glenn? Why would Glenn be texting Brian? Why would Glenn be texting Brian and not _her_? She bit her lip, glancing upstairs, before opening the message.

 **G. Quagmire**

 _1303 14th St, Palm Beach Gardens Fl 33410 . Thanks, Brian._

Anger flared in Meg's heart, staring at that Florida address, before a realization dawned on her. Glenn hadn't disappeared. He had for a while, but now she knew where he was. She had an address, an address he didn't know she knew. As the plan blossomed over her mind, she felt herself smiling. He had loved her. He hadn't said it, but she knew… she had always known. Glenn loved her, and she loved him. And now… there was a way.

She took Brian's phone and pressed it to her chest as she padded carefully up the stairs and back to her room. After closing the door softly behind her, she flipped open her laptop. It didn't take long to find the flight tickets. $300, but a small price to pay to see Quagmire again. She stared at the screen for a long while, studying the tickets and the price, before pressing 'Submit.'

* * *

 **A/N: I did not anticipate this story to turn into what it did. I originally anticipated this to be a short little story, maybe three chapters at most, and instead I have this 13k-word beast that has consumed my life for the better part of a week. Well, now it's out, and I hope y'all liked it.**


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